


Starlight, Strawberries, Stories, and Nargles

by Thistlerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny keeps Luna company while she guards the student body from Nargles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlight, Strawberries, Stories, and Nargles

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2006, before _Deathly Hallows_ was published. Consequently, there's a little bit of canon non-continuity, mostly regarding Percy.

Ginny emerged from the prefects’ bathroom in blue flannel pajamas, a robe and slippers, and a strawberry champagne mist so thick that she didn’t see Nearly-Headless Nick until he was almost upon her.

“There’s a girl,” he whispered after apologizing profusely for startling her. “A Ravenclaw. She’s in the Great Hall and neither the Friar nor I can convince her to go to bed, even though one of the other prefects is sure to find her. I don’t like the thought of a student chastised on Christmas Eve, and she’s not doing any harm.”

“Well, she’s breaking the rules,” said Ginny. “Are you sure there’s only one?” At Halloween, a couple of Hufflepuff boys had gotten into trouble for organizing a sleepover in the Great Hall.

“Quite sure,” said Nick. “I asked her and she laughed.”

Ginny had a good idea as to the errant girl’s identity. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Nick.”

“Dry your hair,” he advised as she started down the hall, the rubber soles of her slippers almost silent on the flagstones.

“If you see any of the other prefects, distract them,” she called back to him.

The Great Hall was full of starlight. It shimmered along the silver tinsel that hung from the rafters, turning them into rivers. It dripped down crystal icicles and onto the pale upturned face of Luna Lovegood who sat under a thick blanket, her back to a pillar. She was holding her lit wand aloft, and Ginny strained her eyes to see what she was staring at, but it was too shadowy.

“Hi,” she said, moving carefully around the tables and benches. “What are you doing? Anthony or Padma will find you and you’ll be in trouble. You’re not supposed to be down here after hours.”

Luna blinked slowly, but she didn’t turn her head. Her eyelashes shimmered like the tinsel. “I’m looking for Nargles,” she said matter-of-factly. “No one inspected this mistletoe.”

“Er.” Ginny scratched the back of her neck. The steam from her bath was dissipating and she was beginning to be cold – and bewildered. “How do you know?”

“Because I asked Professor Sprout,” said Luna. “I said, ‘Professor, before you hang that mistletoe, did you inspect it for Nargles?’ And she said, ‘Merlin’s beard, child, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.’ I tried to explain. I told her there was an article about Nargles in this week’s _Quibbler_ , but she wouldn’t listen to me. So now I’ve just got to wait and see. Trust me,” she added as though she anticipated a snide remark, “you _don’t_ want to know what happens when a Nargle jumps out at you.”

“What happens?” Ginny hunkered down beside Luna.

“You _don’t_ want to know.”

“No, I do.”

“They get caught in your hair. They get all tangled and sometimes they dig into your scalp and it’s just awful. The more hair, the better. But you’re all right because your hair is clean.” She leaned very close to Ginny suddenly and sniffed her hair. “You smell very nice. Like strawberries.”

Ginny was disconcerted. “Um. Thanks.”

“You always remind me of strawberries,” Luna said, apparently oblivious. “The hard bits are on the outside. Underneath, you’re very sweet. Most people are the other way around.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, not sure what else there was to say. A shiver rippled through her from her toes to her hairline.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah. Maybe we should—”

Luna threw a fold of her blanket over Ginny’s shoulders. “There’s room for both of us.”

Ginny tugged the blanket close. “Thanks. But we really should go. I asked Nearly-Headless Nick to distract the other prefects, but I don’t know what I’m going to tell them if they find us. You don’t want to serve detention over the holidays.”

“Yes, but the _Nargles._ ”

“ _Luna._ ” She bit her lip. Now that she was cuddled close to Luna, sharing her blanket, being told that she was like a strawberry, she didn’t want to move. Tilting her head back, she saw the gold-tipped edges of the mistletoe leaves, the white berries like tiny moons, in the light from Luna’s wand. She imagined things living among those leaves, things with long, thin bodies, twiggy fingers and toes, eyes the same color as the berries. Her scalp tingled, but she told herself that it was because her hair was wet. Nargles didn’t exist.

“You’re still cold,” Luna said. “Here.” She took Ginny’s two hands in one of her own and brought them to her lap, where she held them.

 _You’re mad,_ Ginny thought. _Absolutely barking mad. But I've got to be a little mad too, because this is rather nice._

She hoped sincerely that none of the other prefects found them. If this got back to Michael Corner… Not that she much cared what Michael thought of her, she told herself. Being a bad loser was worse than holding hands with another girl.

Of course, there was nothing really _wrong_ with holding hands with another girl. If one fancied girls. But Ginny didn't. She thought of Harry, off on his search with Ron and Hermione. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. She hoped he'd holed up somewhere for Christmas, and that he was safe. She thought about Neville, at home with his grandmother. Or maybe he was at St. Mungo's, visiting his parents. No, she realized, the hospital must be closed to guests at that hour.

What time was it anyway? The moon, a slender crescent, was just visible over the Hall's eastern wall. Not so very late, then. Still, past curfew was past curfew, regardless of the hour.

"Luna," she whispered, "when will you be sure there're no Nargles up there?"

"Dawn. Nargles are nocturnal."

"Oh. Well, then…why do we have to worry? No one's supposed to be here at night."

"They breed," Luna explained with a patient sigh for Ginny's ignorance. "You don't want a whole colony or Nargles. They get bolder when there's more of them."

 _You're just making this up as you go, aren't you?_ Ginny thought, but she didn't say it.

"So, we have to stay here until dawn?"

"I do. You can go to bed." There was nothing dismissive in her tone.

Ginny felt like a strawberry covered in ice shavings, like the ones they'd had at Bill and Fleur's wedding back in August. Her bum was beginning to feel sore. Still, she shook her head and swallowed her yawn. If anyone found Luna and gave her a hard time – a possibility that seemed less and less likely as the minutes went by – Ginny wanted to be there to defend her. She had enough dirt on the Slytherin prefects to keep them quiet, and she had no qualms about hexing Peeves into the New Year.

"Tell me a story," she said. "To help me stay awake. Any story. I don't care. Make something up."

"I don't make things up," said Luna.

It was Ginny's turn to sigh. "I didn't mean – never mind. Tell me about a boy you fancy."

"I don't fancy any boys. Not right now." Luna paused and tipped her head thoughtfully; her hair brushed Ginny's cheek. "I used to fancy Ronald, but he fancies Hermione, and I think he's a bit odd, actually."

Ginny snorted. "Let's not talk about boys." After spending a summer of listening to Fleur gabble about how _brave_ and _'andsome_ Bill was, she'd had her fill.

Luna said, "When we lived in Morocco, there was a monkey in the place where we stayed. His name was Alamar. His fur was the color of honey and his eyes were brown. He stole things for me. I didn't ask him to. He would just bring me things. Nuts. Pretty glass beads. Pieces of a teacup he broke. I would wake up and all these things would be lying on my windowsill, shining. I wonder what he was trying to tell me. I'm sure he was trying to tell me something. Perhaps he was under a curse." Her voice had a dreamy, almost singsong quality, as if she were reciting a tale she'd been told, but Ginny knew that she wasn't.

"What do you suppose he really was?" she went on.

"He was probably a real monkey," Ginny said.

"Oh, no. No, it was a curse. And it was such a long time ago. If we meet again, how will we know each other? I told Dad, but he was busy investigating the Havouree of Zabberwig. She'd been spotted in Marrakesh. We almost caught up with her three times, but she always got away. I think she had spies who told her we were coming. We just wanted to take pictures of her, though, and ask some questions."

"I've never been to Morocco," said Ginny. "The only place outside of Britain that I've ever been is Egypt. That was cool, even though Mum wouldn't let me see some of the skeletons of the idiots who'd broken into the tombs and got themselves cursed. I met a ghost. I don't think anyone else in my family saw her. There was a courtyard in our hotel, with a fountain in the middle. It was really pretty. The fountain was like a gigantic urn or something, full of water, and there were lilies floating in it." She closed her eyes and saw it clearly, white lilies in the moonlight, cypress trees, the shivery, silvery sound of flowing water.

"One night, I was restless so I went down to the courtyard and there was this little girl ghost. She was tiny. I mean, thin. And short. Her eyes were really big and dark. I think she was looking for something. We didn't understand each other, but I think she was looking for something called 'Miu.' I think maybe that was her cat. I wonder how long ago she died."

Ginny was vaguely aware that her hands had moved and were now clasping Luna's. She thought of their fingers tangled together under the blanket, but she hadn't the strength to do anything about that. No one would see, and it didn't mean anything.

"How come you didn't go home for the holiday?" Luna asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Percy's back and Mum and Dad wanted him to themselves. I think they were afraid we'd scare him off. Probably right." Her head felt heavy, her neck thin and very fragile. When her head started to fall toward Luna's shoulder, she couldn't stop it. "Sorry."

Luna misunderstood. "No, it's all right," she said. "I'm glad. It means we were right about Percy."

"'We'?"

"At the _Quibbler._ We did a story on him last June."

"Oh," Ginny said. "Um. All right."

"You can sleep," Luna said. "I won't kiss you."

A corner of Ginny's mouth twitched, but couldn't quite work itself into a smile. "S'all right. Would be weird. Girls an' all." Luna's bony shoulder jutted beneath her cheek, but she didn't mind terribly.

"Oh, it's not that. I don't want to miss the Nargles."

For a few moments Ginny contemplated the effort it would take to raise her head and touch her lips to Luna's. It was mad and yet…

And yet her hands encased Luna's like flower petals and they had just been talking calmly about enchanted monkeys and little girl ghosts.

"Anyway," she heard Luna say, "the Grey Lady understands. She won't let anyone bother us."

 _You couldn't have said that earlier?_ But she was glad because now she was a strawberry melting in a drizzle of warm honey. Stars and a moon that looked like a silver bangle on a charm bracelet were tipping westward and ghosts were keeping watch and tomorrow was Christmas.

Just before she fell asleep, Ginny felt something in her hair. Her heart jumped a little because they were sitting under mistletoe, but she knew that it couldn't be Nargles. For one thing, they didn't exist. For another, Luna was protecting her.

Strange. Hadn't she come down here to protect Luna?

The slim fingers moved soothingly through Ginny's hair and for some reason that was perfectly all right.

12/12/06


End file.
